


Wrought Iron

by royalstandard



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: F/M, Half-Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalstandard/pseuds/royalstandard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Klebekah drabble based off of the 2-sec clip of them in the CW's 2014 summer promo</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrought Iron

They began a few feet apart - worlds and bitterness between them - and now there were mere inches separating them. Anger seethed off of each of them in waves, feeling like literal heat on Rebekah’s eternally cold skin. If her blood still ran like human blood, her cheeks would be as flushed as her eyes were. Instead, she stood staring her brother down, her blue eyes glaring hotly at him as if to burn holes through his skull.

"It’s time for us to forgive one another, sister,” Klaus hissed, stressing the familiar term for her so it sounded like something sacred and blasphemous simultaneously. “I trust no one more to protect my daughter, and I trusted you to find a safer place to hide her.”

His eyes flashed now, so similar to hers yet so very different. That insane glint was there, the glint that only heightened emotion could bring out in him, and his jaw clenched as he tilted his head slightly and watched her. 

All of their confrontations led to this situation. It was merely a different setting. They invaded each other’s personal space. They glared at one another until the tension built up so thick between them she thought she might shatter into a thousand pieces. But she never did. She never surrendered to him, not in these moments. She was accustomed to this sort of arguing, but it was fresh to her all the same. Each time was unique in its familiarity.

"If you think I’m settling down in Savannah, then you’re a fool," she snapped back at him, her voice quiet as it only was when she was angry. "I haven’t stopped moving since the first night you handed her to me. I’ve only paused long enough for you to get your fill."

She knew her brother well. He trusted her - she did believe that - but he was too controlling to let her disappear from his life completely. Now that Hope was in the mixture, his desire for both of them was insatiable. He couldn’t care about New Orleans while the two of them were outside of his reach.

So here she was: her back brushing the wrought iron fence of an exquisite plantation home on the outskirts of Savannah, GA, her blond hair in natural, perfect waves cascading over her shoulders as the humid Georgia night air played with the polka-dotted fabric of her dress, teasing around her thighs.

"There’s no need to be testy, Bekah," he commented lowly, dipping his chin and raising his eyebrows slightly in a pointed look she knew well.

She smiled ever so slightly at him, a smile which held a challenge and no mirth. “If you hadn’t fallen onto Genevieve in bed, then none of this would have happened.”

"Don’t you dare—" he lunged at her, but she didn’t budge as his eyes scorched her and the sheer force of his will hit her with as little effect as a tidal wave crashing into the Himalayas. Lifting her chin, she reached up in a flash, her fingers digging into his chin as her eyelids lowered slightly when she focused on him. He was so close she could feel the heat of his hybrid body against the cool fabric of her dress, and he froze at her touch, glaring down at her. Her fingertips digging into his face gave him pause - her touch had always heated and cooled him simultaneously for different reasons - but his eyes whirled with the emotions he could never stamp out no matter how hard he tried with the help of bitter slogans and denial. He didn’t touch her, and he wouldn’t. The silent understanding passed between them that he wasn’t allowed to touch her. It was always her choice how very far they went, and now, she had the power. She was the only woman to whom he would submit in such a way.

She was, and always would be, his precious Rebekah.

The silence extended between them, expanding and thickening until it felt as if time around them stood still. Her pupils dilated as her fingertips dug deeper into his skin, only a motion from tearing open his face. The fabric of her dress twisted around her forearm, the smooth velvet tugging against her wrist and falling away from her hand as she stared her brother down.

"I made you a promise," she murmured, lifting her chin so their noses practically brushed thanks to their closeness. Klaus’s muscles tensed beneath his black shirt - ironically, or perhaps not at all, matching the black accents of her dress - bunching as he fought his primal urge to either tear her to shreds or pin her roughly back against the iron fence.

"When I make you a promise, I never…" she cocked her head slowly to the side, her eyes leaving his gaze and meandering lazily to his mouth, "Betray you."

There was that word again. Betrayal. She had betrayed him once. It was a secret she’d kept for too many years. But now he knew; now they both knew, and that was the only way their secrets could exist. He now knew everything within her, just as she knew everything within him. They were inexplicably drawn to one another, drawn to a twin flame, and their combined heat was always too much to handle. Being with Nik was like being born and simultaneously dying in an incessant cycle. She couldn’t live without him, but being with him tore her to pieces.

"No…" he murmured, his voice thick with anger and something else, "You wouldn’t." He was certain, as well he should be. He knew her better than anyone, just as she knew him. They had their disagreement. They’d admitted how volatile they were for one another, and they’d gone their separate ways. But in the end, they would always prevail together.

Always and forever.

He relaxed slightly, and her fingers loosened against his skin as if she was his mirror. Her thumb pressed into the puffed curve of his cheek around his mouth, but she held his face almost affectionately now. Neither of them backed away, neither of them made space. They didn’t need personal space. They belonged here, like this.

"I will keep her safe, Nik," she promised him. "You take care of everything else."

His eyes relaxed now, settling into their characteristic tempestuousness. He said nothing because there was no need. Everything he could say, she already knew. Any worries he might express would only make him feel weak in his own eyes. Any more of her words would irritate him with their repetition.

So she said nothing, but merely gazed at him a moment longer. The time lengthened between them again, the muggy breeze feeling distant as she lost herself for a moment.

Then she turned, her fingers still lingering against the stubbly lines of his jaw. The bluish light behind her head was lost, casting her face into shadow as she slowly ran her fingers down the curve of his strong jaw as she turned away. She memorized every pin prick of sensation of his face against the pads of her fingers before her hand fell away.

She didn’t look back as she stepped off into the grass, her feet making no sound at all. His eyes followed her, enthralled with her, and his teeth clenched so his jaw twitched and tightened. He watched the familiar waves of her hair as the darkness swallowed her, and he lingered even after she was gone, his nostrils flaring slowly as he consumed her scent still hanging on the humid air.


End file.
